


5 to 9

by bullwolf



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, M/M, a gross fluffy fic featuring: really stupid boys having lots of sex!, and some recreational drug use on the side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:04:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8197051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bullwolf/pseuds/bullwolf
Summary: Chanyeol fucks Baekhyun for the first time in the back of his shitty Pontiac Grand AM with Fidlar’s No Waves spilling out of his speakers. Or, alternatively, the fic where Chanyeol acts like the dumb 23 year old he is, has lots of sex, and learns to love Baekhyun right. Exactly in that order.





	

**Author's Note:**

> why do i always get into fandoms late? @god why???

i.

Chanyeol fucks Baekhyun for the first time in the back of his shitty Pontiac Grand AM outside of an equally shitty club downtown with Fidlar’s No Waves spilling out of his speakers. It’s cramped and awful, and every time they think they’ve found a comfortable position, someone gets a kink in their neck or a strained thigh muscle and they’ve got to reevaluate yet again.

Eventually it ends with Baekhyun sitting himself in Chanyeol’s lap, hips circling determinately above him as Baekhyun tells Chanyeol in terribly venomous detail how and why he deserves better than— _this_.

Chanyeol would probably agree, but he’s got his hands full of Baekhyun’s ass and his eyes are starting to roll back into his head, so he says nothing and just starts fucking up into the smaller boy in earnest.

They climax together, Baekhyun shaking apart into Chanyeol’s arms, and his come gets everywhere.

Later, when Chanyeol finds a white stain on his upholstery that he’d managed to miss on the first clean through, he thinks back to Baekhyun’s kiss-swollen lips and sweaty, wrecked hair from that night and scrubs viciously at the offending mark until it’s no longer visible.

 

ii.

Jongdae stops Chanyeol outside of their usual dive bar with a hand to his arm. If Chanyeol peeks around his shoulder, he can see Baekhyun with his eyeliner and skinny jeans seated at the usual table talking to a few of their friends.

“Did you have sex with Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks.

Chanyeol shrugs. “Maybe?” He’s not sure why this matters to Jongdae; the guy swings someone new every time they go clubbing and Chanyeol’s never said anything to him about it. And Baekhyun is—Baekhyun. They’ve been friends for years and have been flirting shamelessly for just as long. “So?”

Jongdae makes a face. “Okay,” he says. “Just—don’t make it weird.”

“You’re the one making it weird,” Chanyeol points out. He shakes Jongdae’s hand off. “Can we go inside now? It’s cold out.”

They join the others and squeeze into the booth so that Jondae is on Chanyeol’s right, Baekhyun on his left. After they’re all a few beers in and getting to the tipsy-and-loud portion of the night, Chanyeol swears he can feel fingertips on his knee, a hand trailing from the scuff in his jeans up to his thighs. But when he shoots Baekhyun a look, Baekhyun is fully engaged in a conversation with Minseok and Chanyeol chalks it up to his imagination.

He excuses himself to splash some water on his face, and when he rejoins, he slips in next to Minseok and Sehun instead. He misses the look Baekhyun shoots him and obstinately does not think about the ghost of a touch burning into his left leg.

 

iii.

The second time they fuck, it’s in a bed. Not a bed that belongs to either of them, but it’s a step up from a junky car with fast food trash on the ground. They’re at Sehun’s house for a party and they can hear the music thumping away down the hall, some hip-hop piece about girls and shots and asses.

Chanyeol sticks his fingers under the hem of Baekhyun’s boxers and pulls him in for a kiss. The warmth of the other boy is amazing, and he’d forgotten how good Baekhyun was at making out.

“Jongdae knows we’re fucking,” Chanyeol says conversationally, leaning back to pull Baekhyun’s shirt off. Baekhyun makes a noise of indignation but lifts his arms anyway.

“Please,” he sighs, “don’t bring Jongdae into the bedroom with us.”

Chanyeol lets Baekhyun deal with throwing his shirt somewhere and turns to fight with his own belt buckle. “Okay, but. Does that bother you? That he knows?”

Baekhyun is quiet for a moment. “No,” he says eventually. “Should it?”

Chanyeol looks up. “No. I guess not.”

He lays Baekhyun out with his back on the bed and spends almost twenty minutes kissing everywhere that he can besides Baekhyun’s cock. The lube is slick and sticky on his fingers, and he works a few fingers in, skillfully opening him up, until Baekhyun is arched off of the mattress heaving breaths that make Chanyeol want to _wreck_ him.

“I’m going to knee you in the stomach if you don’t get on with it _right now_ ,” Baekhyun hisses. Chanyeol crooks his fingers up to rub at his prostate and sucks an angry, red mark into Baekhyun’s inner thigh to prove a point, but then he does go to rip open a condom pack. Finally.

He shivers when he slips it on and lines himself up with Baekhyun’s entrance.

“How do you think he found out, though?” Chanyeol breathes, slowly pushing his cock past the tight ring of muscle. Baekhyun is too focused on the sensations wracking his body to register the question properly.

“What?” He blinks up at Chanyeol. There’re full beads of sweat slipping down his temples and into his hair. His eyes widen. “What the _fuck_ , Chanyeol. Don’t talk about Jongdae with your _dick_ in my body.”

Chanyeol bottoms out and shifts his hips a bit, enjoying the tight, cloying heat. Baekhyun groans. “You didn’t tell him, did you? Because—I mean, it’s not like this is really a thing. Just. Just sex between two consenting adults.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes. “Move or I’ll kill you in your sleep”

“So threatening today,” Chanyeol smiles, but does what he’s asked. Baekhyun comes after a few minutes of thrusting and Chanyeol shoots a hand out to work his dick until the last of his orgasm has been wrought from him. Then he pulls out and jerks off onto Baekhyun’s stomach, peaking when Baekhyun tangles a hand in his hair and arches up to slot their mouths together. He comes and Baekhyun kisses him through the whole thing.

Afterward, when they’re wiped up and basking in the sluggish afterglow, bass making the bed vibrate beneath them, Baekhyun rolls onto his side and pokes a finger into Chanyeol’s cheek. “Have you ever thought about making this a thing?” he asks. “Just curious.”

Chanyeol hums and tries to fight the intense desire to sleep that’s taking over his body. “Nah, too messy. Like you too much as a friend. Also Jongdae would kill me.” His eyes close and he thinks that maybe Baekhyun responded, but he’s slipping further and further away from reality.

When he comes to a little bit later, Baekhyun is gone and Chanyeol feels exhausted and uncomfortably cold laying alone on the bed.

 

iv.

On Tuesday, Chanyeol gets a text from one of his old coworkers that works at the Skyway dance club letting him know that Fidlar is going to be headlining on Friday. Chanyeol almost drops his phone in excitement. He manages to wheedle two free tickets out of his friend before immediately calling Baekhyun.

“You don’t have a choice at this point,” he says into his phone. “You’re coming.”

“What if I’m busy?” Baekhyun asks huffily. “What if I have a hot date?”

“Then tell them you have something _way better_ to do and come with me anyway.” He can almost hear Baekhyun rolling his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’ll smoke you up beforehand?”

Baekhyun sighs like he knows he’s making a wrong decision but eventually caves. “Don’t get the stuff from Jongin. That last batch was laced with PCP and I don’t want to trip face listening to a terrible Californian surf-punk band.”

“Hey!” Chanyeol says. “Terrible my ass. You love them.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun laughs, voice soft. “You’re right. I do.” And then, “Seriously, don’t buy from Jongin. I’m not in the mood for anything hard.”

Chanyeol laughs. “Whatever you want, Baek.”

Baekhyun comes over to Chanyeol’s apartment on Friday after he gets off of work and changes into comfortable clothes to smoke in before they actually get ready to leave. He looks ridiculously touchable in the worn, soft hoodie and sweatpants, and Chanyeol can’t help but reach a hand out and tug at a pocket.

They’re already sufficiently high, well on their way to being baked, and Chanyeol can’t stop staring at Baekhyun’s lips.

“C’mere,” he says, joint in one hand. “Wanna shotgun you.”

He puts the paper to his lips and inhales, holding the smoke in his lungs as he grabs the back of Baekhyun’s neck and tilts his head up. There’s a light press of lips as they exchange air, and watching Baekhyun exhale Chanyeol’s hit afterward sends a shot of electricity up his spine.

“Alright, alright,” Baekhyun says, coughing a bit. “If we smoke any more, I’m not going to want to change. Or leave this couch.”

“Mm,” Chanyeol mumbles, dipping down to kiss at the juncture of Baekhyun’s neck. “Doesn’t sound too bad to me.” He works his way up to the sensitive skin under Baekhyun’s jaw and presses slow, heavy kisses there. Baekhyun makes a choking noise.

“Chanyeol,” he says, and his voice is thick and rough. Chanyeol makes to switch sides so he can give equal attention to Baekhyun’s other ear but is stopped with a hand to his chest.

“I’m serious,” Baekhyun says. “We’ll miss the concert.”

“The tickets were free anyway,” Chanyeol pouts, but he scoots back to give them both breathing space.

The concert is loud and messy and full of equally stoned people slamming back beers. Chanyeol and Baekhyun sequester a small space in back and alternate screaming out lyrics at the top of their lungs and pressing one another into the brick wall, lips up-turned in grins even as they kiss each other raw.

When they get back to Chanyeol’s apartment after, high nearly out of their systems, Chanyeol fucks Baekhyun into his mattress hard and long enough that the smaller boy comes three times in an hour. It might be the last dredges of weed or the echo of the concert in his bones, but Chanyeol thinks this might be the best sex of his life.

He falls asleep with Baekhyun’s hand tangled in his shirt and a beautiful warmth blooming in his chest.

 

v.

They start hanging out a lot more after that—sometimes just for a quick round of blowjobs and handies between breaks in their work schedules, other times for a few days straight with Baekhyun falling asleep and waking up in Chanyeol’s bed multiple mornings in a row.

Around the third month of this happening, after Baekhyun has woken him up to tell him he has to go to work and then kissed him languidly back to sleep, Chanyeol realizes that despite two nights of non-stop hanging out, they hadn’t had sex once.

It’s not that it hadn’t been nice—they’d lounged around in their pajamas the whole time, reveling in a shared break from work—but thinking back on it all settles something awkward and heavy in Chanyeol’s gut.

The next time they see each other, Chanyeol barely lets Baekhyun get a ‘hello’ out before hoisting him up against the wall and fucking sweat marks into the plaster. It’s hot and deliciously familiar, but the cold sense of dread lingers.

Chanyeol, for the first time in their weird, long-time friendship, is unsure of what they’re doing.

 

vi.

Jongdae gets the group together to go clubbing a few weeks later. Minseok offers to DD, so they all pile into his purple mini-van and head downtown. Baekhyun seems to be extra touchy-feely tonight and wiggles his hand under Chanyeol’s thigh. There’s a flush high in his cheeks that Chanyeol finds utterly endearing, and he can’t help but press their wrists together, just for the sake of touching the other boy. It’s intimate and intoxicating.

It’s a Saturday, and the club is crowded. There are people spilling out of the doors, smoking cigarettes and chatting around all of the entrances and exits. Jongdae turns from where he’s seated in the passenger seat and tells them all to be safe and have fun. Sehun throws a wadded-up ball of hamburger wrapper at him.

As they all pay the cover fee and make their way towards the bar, Baekhyun fits his fingers into Chanyeol’s back jean pocket and presses up behind him.

“Wanna try bending me over your Fender amp later like we talked about? I’ll even let you do that thing with the guitar strap,” he whispers, and despite the initial pull of heat that bubbles up Chanyeol’s insides, the whole concept of going home with Baekhyun for what’s probably the third or fourth time this week seems terrifyingly domestic.

Chanyeol laughs weakly, dislodging Baekhyun's hand from his backside. “We’ll see. Maybe.”

Chanyeol proceeds to get rip-roaring drunk. There’s a guy at the bar who keeps making eyes at him and offering to buy drinks, and Chanyeol says yes to every single one because it helps him ignore Baekhyun who is standing confused and pissed off next to Minseok.

At some point in the night, the guy asks if he can kiss Chanyeol, and Chanyeol’s about to say no, because Baekhyun is _right there_ , but then he realizes that’s absurd.

They’re not a thing.

They established very early on that they’re not a thing. And Chanyeol likes what they have, the closeness and easy friendship on top of the kissing and sex. The very, very good, leaves-you-weak-in-the-knees sex. And relationships are stupid. Relationships can end in break-ups and fights, and Chanyeol doesn’t want that with Baekhyun. He wants exactly what they have right now forever.

Which is why his booze-addled brain tells him that the solution to everything is to make-out with this random dude from the bar. It’ll reset the equilibrium in his and Baekhyun’s relationship and Chanyeol will stop thinking about words like boyfriend or love. Or about things like asking Baekhyun to move in.

So he does it. The guy repeats his question, asks if Chanyeol would like to put that pretty pink mouth to good use, and Chanyeol says yes. Please.

Jongdae catches him when he goes to take a piss a bit later and shoves him into the grimy bathroom wall. Belatedly, he can see Baekhyun still seated at the bar looking shaken and pale.

“You fucked up,” Jongdae says. “You made it weird.”

Chanyeol excuses himself to go puke, and he ends up calling himself a taxi because the idea of sitting with Baekhyun in an enclosed space right now makes his head pound and stomach churn.

When he goes home, he goes home alone, and his shitty little one-bedroom apartment has never felt emptier.

 

vii.

They don’t fuck for a while after that. Baekhyun starts chatting up guys at the bar and leaving arm-in-arm with them, excusing himself from the group early. For some reason this really pisses Chanyeol off. He’s got no room to be angry, no right to the sick, twisted feeling of jealousy that’s settled permanently into his gut, but there it is.

He leans into Jongdae after Baekhyun has gone for a smoke with what will most likely be the Next One and keeps his voice even as he says, “He’s worse than you now.”

Jongdae pinches his arm. “Yeah, what the hell is that about anyway?” He steals Chanyeol’s gin and tonic and takes a sip. “Thought you two were—you know. Kind of exclusive a while back.”

“We had sex,” Chanyeol says and hates how bitter he sounds. There’s a throbbing behind his eyes and a headache riding the cusp of becoming a migraine. “Just, like. A lot of sex. It wasn’t—we weren’t anything, really. Never were.”

“Really? Is that what you wanted?” Jongdae asks, sounding sincerely curious. “Because I’m not sure that’s what Baek wanted.”

The words _yes, it was_ get stuck in his throat, and suddenly he feels the insane urge to cry. Jongdae studies him for a moment and then pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, and Chanyeol lets out a wet, choking laugh. “Go home and think on it for a bit. And if you want to cry, cry, because honestly you probably deserve to at this point. You were kind of a dick.” Chanyeol swallows and nods. “But call me when you’re done and I’ll come over with weed and Resident Evil.”

Chanyeol passes Baekhyun on his way out of the bar. He smells like smoke and body wash and everything that’s been absent from Chanyeol’s sheets for the last month. Chanyeol reaches instinctively out to grab Baekhyun’s wrist and then immediately regrets it because he has no idea what it is he wants to say.

Baekhyun stands in front of him with a carefully blank stare. “What?” he asks.

“I,” Chanyeol starts. He looks at the blonde standing beside Baekhyun, and he feels uncharacteristically small and unimportant. His heart aches sadly. “Nevermind. Have fun tonight. I’m going home.”

He closes the door behind him in his apartment and sobs until he’s gross and snotty and his head hurts from it all. But when he finally begins to calm, he’s blessedly numb.

Jongdae sticks to his word and smokes him up to watch the first two of the Resident Evil films. He eventually only says one thing to Chanyeol on the matter, waiting until they’re slumped together and watching the credits roll on Apocolypse.

“You should just talk to him,” he says. “He’s liked you long enough to know you’re an incurable moron. I can’t imagine this one specific instance of your idiocy can’t be worked through.”

Chanyeol shrugs because who knows, maybe it can’t be. Maybe Chanyeol has unwittingly crushed the most promising relationship he’s never had.

 

iix.

A few days later, he texts Baekhyun to ask if they can meet at the bar after dinner, just the two of them. He gets radio silence for a response and tries not to feel too saddened or surprised by it.

He goes to wait there anyway, taking a seat at their usual table and ordering a beer to sip at so he doesn’t feel too out of place.

The time crawls by, and then it’s almost eleven, and Chanyeol’s beer is half-drunk and undrinkably warm. Of course Baekhyun’s not coming. Chanyeol knew somewhere deep down that this was likely going to be the outcome, that it would take way more time and effort to show how truly horrible Chanyeol felt about everything and how sorry he was that he had let it turn out this way.

But before he can slip on his coat to leave, Baekhyun is _there_ standing quietly next to the table and sliding in to sit across from Chanyeol.

“Hi,” he says. Chanyeol gapes.

“You came?”

Baekhyun gives him a noncommittal shrug. “Didn’t think you’d still be here, honestly.”

"Are you, uh." Chanyeol licks his lips, his mind going blank in the face of actually having to talk to Baekhyun. "How've you been?"

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and gives Chanyeol a baleful look. "Can we just get on with it already? Cut out all of the bullshit? I'd rather not spend all night on this."

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. “Um. I just.” He wipes his palms on his jeans and tries to pull together everything he’d wanted to explain to Baekhyun, everything he’d wanted to convey. What he comes out is, “I still want to bend you over my guitar amp. And do that thing with the strap.” Baekhyun looks like he’s been slapped in the face, but Chanyeol pushes on, determined to talk while he still has the chance. “And I want you to come over and have really long, amazing sex after smoking a blunt with me. And I want you to do that thing with your tongue that you know you’re so good at for, like, forever.

“But, also, I want to do all of that this time while calling you my boyfriend.” Baekhyun, who had been opening his mouth to spit something in reply, promptly closes it.

“What?” he says, confusion heavy in his voice.

“I was an idiot, and I’m not even sure if you like me anymore. Because I think you liked me at one point—I mean, I hope so, because otherwise I’m going to feel really stupid pretty soon. Stupider than I already feel. But I know for a fact that I liked you, that I still do now, and I was just being dumb because I thought, like, if we never started anything, then nothing would ever have to end, you know? I hate endings. And an ending with you would suck so hard—“

Baekhyun stands up and leans over the table and cuts Chanyeol off by shoving their mouths together in a kiss. His fingers are pulling at Chanyeol’s hair in a way that’s slightly painful, but Chanyeol is so happy about it that he thinks he could cry again.

“You are an idiot,” Baekhyun says in between kissing. “I’ve liked you a long time. It’s probably not going to stop now.” His lips are slick with spit and he presses back in after saying, “Probably not ever, to be honest.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol breathes and kisses Baekhyun again and again and again. “Good. Good. Thank fuck.” And then he’s rambling, because Baekhyun likes him again! Baekhyun is listening and talking with him, and it’s the happiest he’s felt in a month. “I wish I could go back and change our first time to being in a bed. Always regretted that. Wish I’d taken you out of that club, driven you to my place, and spent hours working you open.”

Baekhyun makes a noise at that and straightens when his back starts to ache from their awkward position. “Nah. I wouldn’t have made it to your apartment,” he says breathily, lips looking like they’d been ravished. It makes Chanyeol unreasonable happy. And then Baekhyun adds, “And if you insist on kissing me in this crappy dive bar any longer, we’ll probably have a repeat.” He holds his hand out for Chanyeol. “What do you say? Wanna get out of here?”

Chanyeol bites back a groan. “Fuck yes.”

They end up fucking on the carpet in Chanyeol’s living room with Fidlar providing music in the background, Baekhyun bracketing Chanyeol’s hips between his thighs as he rides him. And when they go for round two a few hours later, Baekhyun gets jizz all over Chanyeol’s guitar amp and it’s disgustingly perfect.

 

extra.

They're buried under Chanyeol's sheets trading kisses before they have to go out to meet the guys for a drink. Chanyeol has Baekhyun's dick in his palm and is working him slowly but firmly, drawing tiny noises from the other man, and it's wonderful in all the ways it's normal now.

"Man," Chanyeol says, pulling back from kissing to watch the head of Baekhyun's cock slip between his fingers. "Remind me to thank Jongdae at some point. The guy is like cupid or something." He lets out a pained _oof_ as Baekhyun smacks a hand to his chest.

"Is this really still an issue?" he growls. His voice is incredulous but also thick and heavy still with arousal. "Don't bring up Jongdae in the bedroom. Not when you're holding my goddamn erection-"

Chanyeol cuts him off with a laugh and a kiss. "Sorry! Sorry. I'm just. Really happy that you're here with me right now."

Baekhyun makes a face like he still wants to argue, but sighs, mollified. "I am, too." Chanyeol starts moving his hand again, and Baekhyun's eyes flutter close. "Yeah, babe, just like that. _Fuck_. So good." 

"I'll just tell Jongdae tonight when we see him."

Chanyeol laughs until he cries after he hits the floor. Baekhyun stomps to the bathroom, erection bobbing hilariously against his stomach. "Ridiculous!" he shouts, slamming the door.

"Love you!" Chanyeol yells, and a small, satisfied smile settles on his lips when he hears a grumbled, _so stupid, so so stupid, can't believe I love you, too_ in return.

**Author's Note:**

> fidlar is a ridiculous band that may or may not require drugs to listen to, but it provides a great soundtrack to...whatever this is that i've just written. just fyi.


End file.
